


you’re the best i’ve ever had

by crankipli3r



Series: Who Kidnapped Markiplier? [2]
Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Blowjobs, First Time, Fluff, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, Mark is loud in bed fight me, PTSD, Porn With Plot, Recovery, a little plot, drug mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 13:36:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18740116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crankipli3r/pseuds/crankipli3r
Summary: If he didn’t have Ethan, Mark isn’t sure what he’d do.That being said, there’s still something missing from their relationship: sex. It’s by no means a deal-breaker — Ethan’s made it quite clear he’s perfectly happy to wait until Mark’s fully healed to cross that bridge. But Mark still feels incredibly guilty for not being able to provide that for Ethan yet.———Mark’s still recovering from what happened to him in Boston two months ago. But he thinks he’s finally ready, physically and mentally, to demonstrate his love to Ethan in a new way — the one way he hasn’t yet.





	you’re the best i’ve ever had

**Author's Note:**

> hey everyone! here’s another installment in the kidnapped!mark ‘verse, if it’s even worthy of being called a ‘verse. i just love the boys and i wanted mark to have some happiness after everything i put him through in the first fic. 
> 
> (thank you to everyone who’s read and commented and left kudos on that fic so far btw, i appreciate your kind words and ilysm)
> 
> i might write a couple more fics in this ‘verse because i get new ideas every day. all of them will be self-indulgent as hell, and this one is no exception :) hope you enjoy!!
> 
> title is once again from “11 minutes” by halsey and yungblood. idk why.

It’s been two months. 61 days, to be more exact. Mark is recovering slowly but surely from everything that happened in that cellar in April, and Ethan’s been right by his side the whole time. If he’s honest, Mark doesn’t think he would’ve been able to make it without his boyfriend’s care and support — Ethan’s helped change the bandages on Mark’s side, soothed him to sleep after nightmares, and reassured him of his worth and strength every day.

If he didn’t have Ethan, Mark isn’t sure what he’d do.

“Y’know you’re the best thing to ever happen to me, right?” Mark had murmured against Ethan’s neck on day 24, almost a week after returning back to L.A. from Boston.

Ethan had chuckled and leaned back into Mark’s gentle embrace, flipping the bacon over in the skillet on the stove in front of him. “I doubt that,” he’d said, face slowly turning pink.

“Don’t.” Mark had kissed Ethan’s jaw and nuzzled the nape of his neck with the cold tip of his nose. “It’s true. You’re my miracle.”

With a soft sigh, Ethan had put his spatula down and turned in Mark’s arms to meet his eyes. Biting his lip, he’d only said, “Then that makes you mine.”

“Mm-hmm. All yours.”

The rest hadn’t had to be said with words. And that’s one of Mark’s favorite aspects of their relationship — they seem to be able to read each other’s thoughts from a simple look or gesture. Even with Amy, Mark wasn’t on a near-telepathic plane like he is with Ethan. He can hardly believe how lucky he’s gotten in the aftermath of one of the worst nights of his life.

That being said, there’s still something missing from their relationship: sex. It’s by no means a deal-breaker — Ethan’s made it quite clear he’s perfectly happy to wait until Mark’s fully healed to cross that bridge. But Mark still feels incredibly guilty for not being able to provide that for Ethan yet.

That’s not to say there haven’t been some, er, _heated moments_ between them. As soon as the tears in Mark’s pecs and the burns and cuts on his chest had healed satisfactorily, Ethan had taken to sitting in Mark’s lap on a daily basis. These instances are usually paired with a kiss, or two, or ten. On one memorable occasion about three weeks ago, with Ethan straddling Mark’s thighs and nipping at his neck and wriggling against the front of his jeans, Mark had found himself dangerously close to coming in his pants for the first time in a decade. Panting and whining, he’d gripped Ethan’s hips tight and told him to stop, even though he’d wanted so badly to beg _don’t stop, don’t ever stop, please, god, just a little bit more._ Ethan had been confused and flustered at first, but when he’d seen the look on Mark’s face, the confusion had morphed into satisfaction and smugness. He’d lifted himself off Mark’s lap and cuddled into his side without complaint, but Mark had still mentally kicked himself for making him stop.

Mark _wants_ Ethan so badly. And he can tell Ethan wants him back. Even though the stab wound still aches most days and Mark’s brain is still a frazzled, anxious ball of yarn, he thinks tonight he might finally be physically up to the task of giving Ethan everything he deserves. He only wishes he could’ve done it sooner.

Mark loves Ethan so much. More than anything. Which is why he’s been in his kitchen all afternoon, cooking the best dinner he can as an apology. They’d wanted to do something together to commemorate the two month milestone — Mark’s already gotten calls from Wade and Bob, and he and Tyler had streamed on Twitch together earlier. The three of them knew Mark would be spending the evening with Ethan to celebrate, and they’d all let him know that was okay. Mark’s barely put out any videos on his channel since everything happened, and everyone’s still keeping a close eye on him to make sure he isn’t over-exerting himself.

Well. If tonight goes as planned, there may very well be some over-exerting happening. But that’ll ultimately be up to Ethan.

Just as Mark is finishing the pasta sauce, he hears Chica start barking from the living room. Mark’s heart skips in the thrilled way it always does when Ethan’s around, and he turns off the heat to go greet Ethan at the door.

Sure enough, the younger man is already inside and toeing off his shoes, scratching Chica behind the ears as she enthusiastically wiggles and wags her tail at his feet. He looks up when he hears Mark approaching, and his face splits into the special Mark-smile he saves for nights like this. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Mark chuckles a bit and walks over to gently pull Chica away by her collar. “One of these days she’s just gonna maul you with licks, y’know.”

Ethan shakes his head and bends down to keep rubbing her ears. “D’awww, nah, she just loves me so much she can barely contain it!” he says, kissing her nose.

 _She’s not the only one,_ Mark thinks fondly, his heart swelling. When Ethan’s shoes are finally off all the way, Mark reaches out to take him by the wrist and pulls him into a warm hug. His eyes close as he breathes in the younger man’s soothing scent of almond butter shampoo and mild cologne.

Melting easily into the embrace, Ethan winds his arms securely around Mark’s shoulders and sighs into his neck. “Missed you,” he murmurs, lightly kissing the sensitive skin against his lips.

“Missed you too,” Mark whispers into Ethan’s soft hair. He lets Ethan’s arms take away every ache and anxious thought for a few seconds, losing himself in the gentle sway of their bodies. “I made dinner.”

“Nothing too strenuous, I hope.” Ethan slowly pulls away, only to rest his forehead against Mark’s and nuzzle his nose. “What number are you at today?”

Mark thinks for a moment and twists a bit to feel the wound in his side twinge. He winces, but it’s not too bad. _Don’t worry him._ “I’d say a four or five, like yesterday.”

“Okay. What about for the dreams?”

Biting his lip, Mark drops his gaze and blushes a bit. He’s still getting awful nightmares almost every night, and the one-to-ten scale sometimes doesn’t do them justice. Last night’s had featured Taller — David Strahm, as Mark later learned while he was giving his statements to the feds and police — pulling a power saw out of nowhere and …

“Probably an eight,” Mark finally replies with a light shiver. He moves his hands to Ethan’s hips and squeezes. “A kiss might help.”

Ethan’s riptide eyes sparkle and the grin that graces his face is a balm in itself, even though there’s still lines of concern etched into his forehead. “Coming right up,” he says before leaning in slowly and capturing Mark’s mouth with his own.

As always, Mark sighs into it and pulls Ethan closer until they’re touching from chest to knees. Playing with the soft curls at the back of Ethan’s neck, Mark deepens the kiss and fists his other hand in Ethan’s shirt — a slim-fitting black V-neck that makes him look practically edible. Their tongues swipe together like they choreographed the kiss themselves and Mark’s head starts to spin in that gloriously familiar lovestruck way he’s only ever felt with Ethan.

When they break apart to catch their breath a minute later, Ethan brings a hand up to brush a stray lock of hair off Mark’s forehead. His hand lingers on Mark’s left cheekbone, which still bears a small scar. “You’ve had four dreams at an eight this week, babe,” he murmurs. His eyes are big and worried; Mark hates knowing he made Ethan fret. “You told me you’d be okay on your own for a few nights. I should’ve stayed —”

“No,” Mark insists gently, taking Ethan’s hand in his own and kissing his fingers. “You slept here for two weeks straight. I wanted you to go home and live your own life for awhile, keep Spencer company — I _asked_ you to go.”

“I know, but I feel horrible knowing you’re hurting when I’m not around to help.” Ethan kisses Mark’s cheekbone and squeezes him carefully around the middle. “I know you don’t wanna suck up all my time, and I don’t want you to either, but if you’re having crazy nightmares every night I’m gone …”

Mark silences him with a sound kiss. “I promise, I can take care of myself,” he says, leveling Ethan with a reassuring gaze. “It’s a lot easier to sleep when you’re here, sure, but I gotta learn to sleep on my own again somehow. You’re my boyfriend, not my therapist.”

“I know.” Ethan sighs deeply and shakes his head a little. “I just love you too much to not feel bad leaving you alone to deal with this stuff.”

“I understand, and that only makes me love you even more.” Mark kisses Ethan one more time, squeezes his hand, and laces their fingers together before tugging him towards the kitchen. “C’mon, the food’s getting cold.”

Mark leads them to the kitchen and Ethan helps scoop the pasta into a big bowl. Since Mark still can’t lift anything super heavy, Ethan also dumps the boiling pasta water out of the stainless steel pot and loads it into the dishwasher. Mark pecks him on the cheek gratefully as he stirs the seasoned butter sauce into the spaghetti with a big fork.

“That smells amazing,” Ethan compliments as Mark serves him a couple scoops at the dining table. “Did you find this recipe somewhere?”

“Y’know, it was actually in a Bon Appetit ad on Instagram,” Mark says with a smile as he serves himself and sits down. He’s gone all out with the romance cues tonight: there’s a few candles burning in the middle of the table; Alexa’s playing soft music from the counter, and he may or may not have flowers stashed upstairs.

He’s a sap. So what?

The two of them make small talk and laugh a lot as they eat — par for the course for them. Ethan tells Mark about the new TABS battle royale game he’s just played, and about a walk he took Spencer on this morning that ended with Spencer trying to mount a female Standard Poodle at a dog park. Mark laughs so hard his side starts to hurt, and he can’t help but think how much he misses being able to laugh at full tilt without pain.

When their plates are almost empty, Mark clears his throat and reaches across the table to take Ethan’s hand in his. Ethan laces their fingers together without pausing, but he looks a bit perplexed by the sudden mood change. “Mark?” he asks, soft and curious. “What’s up?”

Mark just takes a deep breath and grips Ethan’s hand a little tighter. It takes him a few seconds before he can look up to meet his boyfriend’s eyes.

“You have been so incredible to me these past two months,” Mark begins. “You helped me get dressed when I couldn’t do it myself, you changed my bandages even though you got queasy, you came with me to my first counseling appointments. And that’s not to mention the way you hold me through nightmares and kiss me like I’m something — something _precious,_ instead of something broken.”

“You know I’ve never thought of you as broken,” Ethan interjects quietly. His eyes are big and earnest, almost pleading with Mark to believe him.

“I know, and that’s just another incredible way you’ve loved me through all this bullshit.” Mark sighs and looks down at their joined hands, tracing the ridges of Ethan’s knuckles with his thumb. “A-And after all that … I can’t help but feel like I haven’t returned that love in full.”

This makes Ethan’s eyes widen, and then droop a little with sadness. “What? Mark, no, c’mon …” He kisses Mark’s hand and squeezes it tight with both of his, bending down to meet Mark’s eyes again. “You’ve made me feel more loved than _anyone_ ever has, and I’m not just saying that. You give me the best hugs in the world, even though it hurts you. You kiss me every chance you get. Even before we were together, you supported me and believed in me more than anyone. If — If this is because of the sex thing, I —”

“Well, yeah, it is kinda because of the sex thing,” Mark says with a sigh. “You deserve to have a boyfriend who’s gonna, y’know, _satisfy_ you, or whatever, and. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to do that until now.”

“I’ve told you _ten million_ times, I wanna wait ‘til you’re — hold on.” Ethan’s expression morphs from sad and loving to cautiously curious as he catches on to what Mark’s just implied. “What do you mean, ‘until now’?”

Mark takes a deep, nervous breath and lets it out in a whoosh. Biting his lip, he shifts a bit in his chair and looks right into Ethan’s eyes. “I think I’m okay enough now. I feel like I can … handle it.”

There’s a slow, steady fire beginning to burn in the depths of Ethan’s blue eyes, but his face remains a bit skeptical as he asks, “Are you — I mean, doesn’t your side still hurt? And if you’re still freaked out from the nightmare last night, or, or anxious because it’s the two-month anniversary, I don’t wanna take advantage.”

“I’ve, um. Actually been talking with my therapist about the whole, ‘Is it taking advantage if I’m still significantly traumatized’ question,” Mark says, still keeping his gaze even with Ethan’s. “And she said it’s basically up to me to decide when I think I’m ready on that front. As for the physical part …” Mark bites his lip again and feels his face heat up even more. God, he must look ridiculous and desperate, but he doesn’t care right now. “… I may have, um. Practiced. With a pillow.”

Ethan’s red face could probably rival Mark’s right about now. “You _what?”_ His voice sounds strangled.

“This morning, I, like. Took a pillow, and … well, I’m sure you can guess what I did with it. And it hurt a little, sure, but the cut didn’t tear and I paced myself so it wasn’t as distracting.” For someone who makes a living off videos full of dick jokes, Mark can’t believe how shy he feels talking about this right now. _“So,_ I think that means as long as we don’t dive off the deep end and fuck the shit out of each other right away, I can handle it.”

Ethan just stares at Mark as the fire slowly builds in his eyes. Mark watches his internal battle play out on his face, still nervously clinging to his hand. _Was that too forward?_ he can’t help but think. _Did I just fuck this up? Way to go, Fischbach, your boyfriend thinks you’re a slut now._

After almost a minute of intense internal deliberation, Ethan swallows hard and lets go of Mark’s hand. Mark feels his heart drop and he’s about to open his mouth to take it all back, maybe suggest they re-watch _Jurassic Park_ or something, when Ethan pushes his chair back from the table and gets up. Keeping his gaze laser-focused on Mark’s stunned face, Ethan stalks over to Mark and pulls him up from his own chair by the collar of his shirt.

Their foreheads knock together, and Ethan closes his eyes. “You have to be sure,” he says, quiet and tense. “I-If I hurt you somehow, I couldn’t live with myself. Please don’t do this just because you feel like you need to.”

Mark brings his arms up to wrap around Ethan’s waist and presses their chests together. He feels a little less nervous when he feels Ethan’s heart pounding just as much as his own. “That’s not why I’m doing this,” he promises, brushing a thumb across Ethan’s cheekbone until his eyes open again. “I’m doing it because I love you, and I wanna show you how much, and I _want_ you. I want you so fucking badly, Ethan; I have for almost a year. I swear I’ll tell you if something hurts or I need to stop. Just … please.”

Ethan licks his lips and glances down at Mark’s wet, open, vulnerable mouth. “I’ve wanted you for a lot longer than that,” he says after a few seconds of staring.

“You can have me.” Mark brushes his nose against Ethan’s and takes a half-step closer, carefully rolling his hips against his boyfriend’s. There’s a small ache in his side, yes, but it’s negligible compared to the friction and the soft, surprised gasp Ethan lets out at the movement. “I’m all yours.”

Ethan appears to need no further convincing. He presses a hungry, filthy kiss to Mark’s lips and takes his hand, eyes dark. “Let’s go upstairs, then,” he says, low and intent. Mark can’t suppress a shiver as he nods and tugs Ethan towards the stairs, heedless of the dishes on the table he’ll have to address later.

As soon as they reach Mark’s bedroom, Ethan draws Mark close and kisses him, slow and thorough and velvety. When he draws back, breathless and flushed, he says softly, “Promise me again that you’ll stop if it hurts too much. I — I’d rather us both enjoy this than have you be a martyr for my sake.”

Mark nods, solemn but urgent. “I promise. Like I said, as long as it’s not dog-in-heat levels of rapid movement, I should be okay.”

That seems to satisfy Ethan. Without another word, he flings his arms around Mark’s neck and kisses him again. Mark kisses back with just as much fervor, heart pounding and head spinning with the thought that _this is finally happening._ He makes a promise to himself then and there to show Ethan the best time possible — he more than deserves it.

They kiss and kiss until they’re trading soft moans and whines, and Mark starts plucking at the hem of Ethan’s V-neck. Ethan breaks the kiss for just long enough to allow Mark to pull the shirt over his head, then dives back in. His own hands start to fumble with the buttons of Mark’s shirt, so Mark reluctantly pulls back and helps him undo them.

When they’re both shirtless, chests heaving and faces flushed, Mark takes a moment to just marvel at Ethan’s lean, toned torso. His shoulders aren’t as broad as Mark’s and his arms aren’t as, well, _beefy,_ but he’s still the most beautiful thing Mark’s ever seen. “God, Eth,” he whispers, running his hands over the planes of Ethan’s chest and delighting in the goosebumps that follow his fingers. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

“Speak for yourself,” Ethan says, equally entranced by Mark’s bare skin. Even though he knows Ethan’s seen all the scars before, Mark can’t help the pang of self-consciousness he feels as Ethan’s fingertips brush over every burn and cut and surgical scar. He knows he’s lost some tone in his chest and stomach during his recovery, but Ethan doesn’t seem to care in the slightest as his hands skim over Mark’s strong shoulders and arms.

Biting his lip, Ethan sets his lust-filled gaze on the two-inch-long gash in Mark’s side — it’s not quite closed completely, and the skin around it is pinkish-purple and puckered hideously. One of Ethan’s trembling hands comes down to carefully cover it, and he looks up to meet Mark’s eyes. “You look incredible,” he murmurs. “Every part of you. And I swear, I won’t hurt you.”

Mark doesn’t know why his eyes suddenly fill with tears at that earnest statement. Because he doesn’t trust himself to speak, he just offers Ethan a watery, grateful smile and leans in for another deep kiss.

It’s not long after that kiss that Mark’s jeans start to feel uncomfortably tight. He fumbles for the dimmer switch on the wall to bring down the lights a bit, then places his hands at Ethan’s waistband. Gasping softly, he pants into Ethan’s neck, “Can I?”

Ethan just whines and nods, reaching down to unlatch Mark’s belt in turn. Biting back a giggle, Mark can’t help but start to sing, “I am special, I am special —”

 _“How_ did I know you were gonna do that?” Ethan says breathlessly, grinning like an idiot. A beautiful, messy-haired, sexy idiot. “Dork.”

Mark laughs and is about to come back with a witty retort when Ethan manages to get his jeans unzipped. The pressure on his straining erection is eased significantly and Mark can’t hold back the relieved moan he lets out, doubling his efforts to give Ethan the same relief. It finally works, and the two of them shed their jeans and socks and leave them on the carpet as they stumble towards the bed.

Mark’s too busy kissing Ethan to remember exactly where his bed is, so the backs of his knees hit it unexpectedly quickly and he topples down onto it. The movement is quick and it stretches the wrong muscles, and Mark gasps sharply, freezing.

Ethan freezes too. “What, what’s wrong?” he asks, lips deliciously kiss-bitten and eyes suddenly frantic. “Did you pull something?”

“I’m fine, I’m okay,” Mark says, catching his breath and holding his side. “Just moved too fast. ‘S fine, I swear.”

“Are you sure? We can just sleep, it’s really okay —”

 _“Ethan.”_ Mark lets go of his injury and slowly sits up, smiling up at Ethan encouragingly. “I’m fine. It was just a quick movement in the wrong direction, that’s all.” _Please don’t let him freak out please let him still want me_ … “It doesn’t hurt anymore. C’mon; we were just getting to the good part. Don’t stop now.”

Ethan hesitates for another few seconds, but eventually he takes Mark at his word. Sighing, he leans down and kisses Mark gently. “At least move up to the pillows for me, so you’re comfy.”

“Can do.” Mark breathes an internal sigh of relief and slowly scoots himself back towards the headboard until his head and shoulders are propped up by fluffy pillows. With some maneuvering, he manages to pull the comforter and sheets out from under himself and holds them up. “C’mere,” he says, looking up at Ethan through hooded eyes.

Ethan is on top of Mark immediately, pulling the sheets back over them both. He wedges himself between Mark’s spread thighs and kisses him hard, humming against his lips. Mark kisses back and wraps his arms tight around Ethan’s waist, slipping a hand down to rest right above the waistband of his boyfriend’s blue boxer briefs. This feels so good, so unbelievably good, and there isn’t even any friction yet.

With a shiver, Ethan breaks the kiss and meets Mark’s eyes, looking debauched and desperate but also nervous. “I — Okay, so,” he starts, licking his lips. “I … I’m not a virgin, okay, but my experience is … really limited. Especially with guys. In fact, you’re the only guy I’ve ever kissed, and only the second person I’ve … done this with.”

Mark blinks up at Ethan, surprised but not at all dissuaded. “That’s okay,” he says, voice deep but gentle. “I’m glad you told me. I’m … I mean, I’m no Casanova by any stretch, but I’ve been around the block a few times.” _Maybe more than a few._ “Only once with a guy, though, so. I’m no expert at this, either.”

Ethan nods in understanding, running a hand through Mark’s hair to ground them both. After a moment, he smirks a little. “Was it Sean?”

Even though he’s kind of taken aback by the straightforward question, Mark has to answer honestly. “Yeah,” he says, blushing and looking away from Ethan’s face. “It was after some convention in, like, 2014 or 2015. He’d been drinking, and ‘cuz I was still dumb, I was too. We went back to his hotel room and started talking about how ridiculous the ‘shippers’ were, or whatever, and … one thing led to another.” He shrugs, occupying himself with counting the freckles on Ethan’s left shoulder. “I had a bit of an identity crisis for a few weeks after that, but I got over it and we just … moved on with our friendship, I guess. We’re both a lot happier with who we ended up with than we would’ve been with each other, trust me.”

The next thing Mark knows, Ethan’s leaning down and kissing him so tenderly it almost makes him tear up again. When he pulls back, Ethan’s smiling at Mark with more love than Mark’s ever felt directed at him. “I can’t believe you picked me over a dashing Irishman,” he teases, though there’s a note of sincerity in it, too.

“No contest,” Mark says, running his hands up and down Ethan’s strong back. “Team Purple forever.”

“Oh my _god.”_ Ethan shuts Mark up with another kiss, and Mark lets himself be silenced.

The kiss lasts for long enough that Mark forgets where they are, and what they are and aren’t wearing. He gets so lost in it that he shivers all over at the sudden shock of sensation he feels when Ethan drops down and presses their hips together. _“Oh,”_ he gasps against Ethan’s lips, gripping him tighter.

“Y-Yeah,” Ethan whispers in agreement, sounding unraveled already. He rolls his hips down a couple times, gentle and exploratory, and Mark throws his head back with a shout.

“Hoooly fuck, Ethan,” he whines, dick throbbing in his black boxers. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t seen any action in months, but this feels electric already. He hitches his own hips up off the mattress a bit, answering Ethan’s movements. When he feels Ethan’s cock hot and hard and lined up perfectly next to his own through thin cotton, he can’t help but gasp out, “Fu-uck, Eth, you feel — _nnngh_ — !”

“S-So do you.” Ethan buries his face in Mark’s neck and starts licking and nipping at the sensitive skin there as he builds up a rhythm, up-and-down-and-back-and-forth. His calloused thumb finds one of Mark’s nipples and starts to rub slow circles against it.

Mark’s already on the brink of losing his mind, and they’ve barely started. He pants and whimpers as Ethan’s mouth and hands and hips start taking him apart. “Fuck, shit, fuck, _god,_ oh my god …” One of his hands flies to Ethan’s ass and squeezes, pulling him down urgently. “Harder, _harder,_ more, c’mon, please!”

“Knew you’d be mouthy,” Ethan chuckles breathlessly against Mark’s neck, but he obeys, driving down harder and moaning softly at the sensation. “Fuck, listen to you. I — _unh, god_ — knew you’d sound incredible.”

Body buzzing, Mark can only blush and turn his head to give Ethan more access to his skin. He knows what people say about his voice, the Rule 34 edits they’ve made. He’d think about it more if he didn’t currently have his hot boyfriend on top of him, grinding their cocks together perfectly. “Ethan, _Ethan,_ oh, o-ooh …”

“Jesus.” Ethan rakes a hand through Mark’s hair again and licks a dirty stripe up the side of his neck. “‘M not hurting you, right?”

“This is — _aah_ — the opposite of hurting me, babe.” Mark grabs Ethan by the back of the neck and pulls him in for a filthy, wet kiss, groaning into Ethan’s mouth without reserve. He hooks a leg around Ethan’s waist and uses that leverage to flip them over with a grunt. His side twinges a bit, but he ignores it as he presses Ethan down against the pillows and takes over. He’d said he was going to show Ethan how much he loves him, and that’s what he intends to do.

For now, though, Mark keeps up the steady pace of their grinding, feeling Ethan grow harder with every passing second. With his flushed face, pale skin, open mouth, mussed hair, and dark, lust-filled eyes, he’s the hottest thing Mark’s ever seen. “Fuck, you’re so fucking gorgeous,” Mark whispers, kissing Ethan again before pulling away and slowly slinking down his body, trailing kisses from his neck to his sternum to his stomach.

Ethan pushes himself up onto his elbows and looks down at Mark with a question on his face. “What’re you doing?” he pants, even though it seems like he knows the answer already.

Mark licks his lips and kisses the waistband of Ethan’s boxer briefs. He’s mouthwateringly close to the bulge in the front of them, and he just wants to lean in already. “Wanna show you how much I love you,” he says, looking up at Ethan hungrily. “Can I?”

“Holyfuckingshit.” Ethan scrubs a hand down his face and just stares at Mark for a few seconds before nodding. “I-If you’re sure it won’t hurt.”

“I’m fine, I promise,” Mark assures him as he tucks his fingers under the elastic, snaps it against Ethan’s skin once, and gently tugs them down and off.

And. Now his nose is inches from Ethan’s cock. But rather than freaking out like he’d done when Sean had asked him to do this, Mark just moans and wraps his hand firmly around the base before leaning in and lapping at the beads of pre-come collecting on the tip.

Ethan jerks like he’s been tased. “Oooohmygod,” he whines, face twisted in pleasure-pain. He reaches down to tangle a hand in Mark’s hair — not forcing him down, just steadying him. “Fuck, d-do that again.”

Mark hums and does, this time sucking the head into his mouth for a second before releasing it again. “Feel good?”

Ethan can only nod and whine again, falling back against the pillows and essentially giving Mark the green light to go to town.

Swallowing hard, Mark studies the dick in his hand for a couple seconds. Ethan’s not gigantic, but he’s long enough to make Mark seriously doubt his ability to deep-throat him. The head is flushed pink and shiny with spit and pre-come already, so Mark resolves to just start there and work his way down. Taking a deep breath, he leans in and fits his lips over the head again, lapping at the slit and savoring the salt-bitter flavor exploding on his tongue. It’s a little weird, as it had been with Sean. But because Mark’s brain keeps chanting _this is Ethan this is Ethan you’re blowing Ethan holy shit_ at him, Mark gets pretty into it pretty quickly.

From the look and sound of things, Ethan does, too. Mark sucks harder and looks up at the younger man as he lowers his mouth just a bit, entranced by the shocked, lust-filled expression on Ethan’s face. Ethan sighs and moans beautifully with every rhythmic squeeze of Mark’s hand and every flick of his tongue. “G-God, _oh,_ Mark, y-you look so fucking good,” he gasps, yanking a bit on Mark’s hair. “So good, Mark, _Mark!”_

Mark just hums in appreciation, eyes widening when that makes Ethan’s cock twitch against his tongue. He does it again, sliding his mouth down a centimeter lower before bobbing back up, and the answering groan is extremely gratifying.

This goes on for a few minutes until Ethan’s noises become strangled. He tugs sharply on Mark’s hair, whining, and Mark slowly pulls off. Wiping his swollen mouth with the back of his hand, Mark looks up at Ethan’s red face and smirks. “Something wrong?” he asks smartly, still stroking Ethan’s spit-slick cock with a loose grip.

“Oh my god." Ethan swats at Mark’s hand. “Stop, s-stop, gimme a sec to … fuck.” When Mark lets go of him, he sits up a bit and reaches down to grab at Mark’s shoulders, eyes pleading. Mark takes the hint and crawls back up to where Ethan can kiss him messily. The younger man is completely fucked out already, and Mark feels a bit proud of himself.

When the kiss breaks off, Mark licks his lips and looks down into Ethan’s dark eyes. “Guess I’m not as rusty as I thought,” he says, breathless.

“That was almost too much,” Ethan admits, running a thumb over Mark’s lower lip. “If you’d gone on for another two seconds, it would’ve been game over.” Leaning up, he presses another, softer kiss to Mark’s mouth. “You’re perfect. Love you.”

Mark blushes again and hides his face in Ethan’s neck, peppering it with kisses. “‘M really not.” His scars are starting to itch a bit from the sweat beading on his skin, making him hyper-aware of every one. Being called “perfect” when he can feel each of his imperfections screaming at him just doesn’t compute in his head.

“Hey.” Ethan pulls away so he can meet Mark’s eyes again. He takes Mark’s face in his hands and just stares at him for a few long seconds before saying, “I’m telling the truth. You look perfect and you sound perfect and I can’t believe I’m here with you right now.”

Still feeling self-conscious, Mark closes his eyes and presses his face into one of Ethan’s palms. “I can’t believe it either,” he murmurs, taking Ethan’s hand in his and squeezing. “I love you, too.”

“Good.” Ethan kisses Mark one more time, then wraps his arms around him, tight but careful. “Y’know, you’re really bashful for someone who just had a dick in their mouth.”

“Oh, for cryin’ out — you know I get all flustered from compliments and shit!” Mark says, laughing a bit even as he ducks his head down to hide against Ethan’s warm chest. “Shut up!”

“I know, I know. Sorry.” Ethan kisses the top of Mark’s head and gently pushes him back a little. “Why don’t you lie back and lemme take care of that, uh, _problem_ of yours that’s currently digging into my leg?”

All the emotions and tenderness had made Mark completely forget about his own dick, still hard and leaking in his boxers. He shivers at the suggestive tone in Ethan’s voice and nods, grinding once against Ethan’s thigh before carefully rolling over and settling on his back. Surprisingly, Mark thinks this is the first time he’s ever been so invested in his partner’s pleasure during sex that he’s forgotten about his own. Panting softly, he lets his hands rest above his head on the pillows, looking up at Ethan with an expression he hopes conveys, _You can do literally whatever you want to me right now._

“Fuck.” Ethan straddles Mark’s thighs and stares down at him, running his hands slowly across the planes of the older man’s chest. “You’re just … unreal.” His fingertips skim over raised and flat scars, new and old, and Mark’s oddly grateful he isn’t outright tracing them.

Still, he can’t resist making one self-deprecating joke. “I’m glad bumpy, chewed-up skin does it for you,” he mumbles, trying to smile but largely failing.

“It’s your skin, so it’s definitely doing it for me.” Ethan kisses Mark’s sternum lightly, then sits back and drags his hands down to the waistband of Mark’s boxers. “Can I?”

Mark’s mouth goes dry at the thought of finally being naked on a bed with Ethan, but he nods. Ethan’s eyes get even hungrier as he curls his fingers beneath the waistband and slips the offending fabric down Mark’s legs, tossing it to the floor once it’s off. He doesn’t immediately gawk at Mark’s cock or reach down to touch it like Mark expected, though — instead, he keeps his gaze fixed on Mark’s face and leans down for a firm, loving kiss. Mark feels it in his toes, and he kisses back with everything he has, feeling utterly cherished.

“‘M gonna make you feel so good,” Ethan practically growls against Mark’s lips. The dark, almost dangerous voice coming from him is completely foreign but also completely welcome. Mark whimpers at the sound and kisses him harder.

The feeling of Ethan’s strong, lithe hand wrapping around his cock hits Mark in the stomach like a train. He breaks the kiss to throw his head back and shout at the ceiling, thrusting up into Ethan’s tight grip even though it hurts his side. Ethan seems to take that as an invitation to use his mouth for a different purpose — the next thing Mark knows, he feels a hot, wet mouth around one of his nipples and blunt fingernails teasing the other. “O-Oh, _oh,_ oh _god,_ yesyesyes — !”

“Feel good?” Ethan asks, echoing Mark’s earlier question to him. He speeds up his strokes a bit, swiping his thumb over the leaking head of Mark’s dick and nipping at his chest. It's pretty incredible for being Ethan's first time touching a dick other than his own. “C’mon, babe, tell me how much you like it.”

“I — I —” Mark’s head is clouded with ecstasy and desperation, and he has no idea what Ethan expects him to say. Still, he wants to respond. “— I love it, it’s s-so good, _you’re_ so good, Ethan, holy shit …” He tosses his head against the pillows and fucks up into that punishing grip again, this time letting out a soft whine when his side twinges a bit more painfully.

Ethan stops his ministrations immediately, sitting up and letting go of Mark’s dick. Mark sobs at the loss of contact. “What, what hurts, what’s wrong?” Ethan asks, face flushed and anxious.

Swallowing hard and trying to gather his thoughts from the corners of his lust-addled mind, Mark bites his lip and covers the stab wound with a shaking hand. “I-I moved too fast,” he says, breathless but sheepish. “I’m okay, I swear. It only hurt for a second.”

“That’s one second too many,” Ethan says. He gently moves Mark’s hand away from the injury to inspect it. “It looks red. Are you sure you’re —”

“Yes, _yes,_ I’m fine,” Mark snaps. Realizing he might sound a bit harsh, he takes a couple deep breaths and looks up into Ethan’s eyes, sincere. “It’s red from exertion, like the rest of me. I promise I’m okay. I just learned I shouldn’t move like that when I’m on my back, is all.”

Ethan still looks skeptical, but he nods and leans down for a kiss after a few seconds. “Please be careful,” he finally murmurs against Mark’s mouth. “You good to continue, or do you need a break?”

“All I need is your hands back where they were,” Mark says, nipping at Ethan’s lower lip and wrapping his arms around Ethan’s neck. “Please, please …”

After a long moment of hesitation, Ethan nods and kisses Mark hard. “I’ll do you one better,” he whispers. Breaking the kiss, he holds up a hand in front of Mark’s mouth. “Lick.”

Mark’s heart pounds and his cock twitches against his stomach as he laves his tongue over Ethan’s palm, slow and deliberate. He stares into Ethan’s eyes as he does it, demanding but also desperate. Fuck, something about Ethan giving him little orders like this really revs Mark’s engine in a good but slightly terrifying way.

Eventually, Ethan’s satisfied with the slickness of his hand. He kisses Mark filthily as he reaches between them and bundles their cocks together in his hand. The first few strokes are clumsy and uneven, but when he gets a steady rhythm going, they both cry out and lose themselves in it.

“Yeah, yes, _aaah fuck,_ o-ohmygodgodgod!” Noises Mark doesn’t think he’s ever made before pour out of his mouth as he feels Ethan’s cock throbbing against his own. It’s unlike anything Mark’s felt before, making his toes curl and his abs tense with every stroke. He pants and whines and moans helplessly in Ethan’s ear, digging his nails into the younger man’s back as he holds on for dear life. “E-Ethan, _EthanEthanEthan…”_

“I’ve got you, I — oooh _fuck,_ Mark,” Ethan responds, kissing Mark’s stubbled jaw. He’s gasping and whimpering against Mark’s shoulder and his noises only get louder when he speeds up his hand. “Mmm, _ah_ —”

Mark can’t take it anymore. As amazing as this feels, he’s still balanced right on the edge of that glorious cliff and he needs something more to push him off it. Even though he knows it’ll hurt, he grips Ethan tight and flips them over. Ethan gives a startled yelp and lets go of their cocks, but Mark doesn’t miss a beat as he grabs those perfect pale thighs and hooks them around his hips.

“Sorry, I just — I-I gotta —” Mark can’t finish the sentence. He reaches for Ethan’s hands, laces their fingers together, and bends down for a harsh kiss as he starts grinding down as hard as he can.

And. The friction is _insane._ It’s not as tight as Ethan’s fist had been, but it’s hot and dirty and slick from the copious amounts of pre-come leaking from both of them. The kiss devolves until Mark is just panting and moaning against Ethan’s chin, moving his hips in devastating little circles and ignoring the ache in his side. It’s a testament to how far gone Ethan is when he doesn’t tell Mark to be careful.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Ethan chants, squeezing Mark’s hands hard and tightening the loop of his legs around Mark’s waist. “Holy shit, holy _shit,_ o-oh Mark, don’t stop, don’t —”

“C-Can’t stop now,” Mark growls out. Ethan’s right knee is digging into the wound in his side, but the sound of Ethan’s voice and molten pleasure between his hips is doing wonders to drown it out. He presses down even harder and revels in the feeling.

It only takes about thirty seconds of this for both of them to find themselves on the brink. “Mark!” Ethan cries, now gripping Mark’s shoulders and thrusting up against him urgently. “M-Mark, I’m — _fuck,_ I’m gonna come, I’m — _ah_ —!”

Mark pulls back to look down at Ethan, needing to see the moment his boyfriend falls apart. Ethan’s eyes are squeezed shut and his mouth his open and his cheeks are pink and _god,_ he looks just like he’s getting fucked. The moment that thought crosses Mark’s mind, he groans and nods. “Do it, baby, c’mon, show me, come for me,” he gasps and drives down even harder, crying out at the pleasure and the pain of it.

Three uneven breaths later, Ethan’s back arches off the mattress, his face twists, and he lets out a broken, high-pitched cry that Mark doesn’t think he’ll ever get out of his head. Wet heat spreads between their bodies and Mark can feel Ethan pulsing and twitching against him — it’s the hottest thing he’s ever experienced.

By the time Ethan is whimpering and shivering with aftershocks, Mark is a wreck. He’s still grinding fervently against Ethan, sobbing out frustrated groans and breathless “ah ah ah”s with every thrust, but the pain in his side is holding him back from letting go. God, he’s _so_ close, he just needs — a little — _more_ —

“E-Ethan,” he chokes out, pressing his forehead to the younger man’s. “T-Talk to me, please, I’m sofuckingclose oh my _god_ please!”

Gasping, Ethan rakes his nails down Mark’s back until he’s gripping that famous ass with both hands. “C’mon, Mark,” he whines, breath hitching from oversensitivity as he pulls Mark down harder, faster. “Come for me, c-come _on_ me, please, please, do it, _come_ —”

“Please please please pl — oh _— Ethan, oh my god —!”_

It’s like an avalanche and a volcanic eruption all at once when Mark’s vision goes white and he finally, _finally_ comes. It’s the most intense thing he’s ever felt and all he can do is scream into Ethan’s neck and keep moving his stuttering hips, milking every last drop out of himself, trying to make it last even as his arms start to shake and his side cramps up. The world melts away and all he’s aware of is his body and the body pressed against him, warm and maddeningly slick-rough against his softening cock.

Minutes or maybe hours pass before Mark blinks his eyes open. His head is pillowed on Ethan’s chest, there’s bed sheets draped over his lower half, and there’s a steady hand carding through his damp hair. Everything smells like sweat and sex and Mark is still gasping to catch his breath.

“Holy fucking god,” he rasps when he regains control over his tongue. “That … I …”

“Yeah,” Ethan agrees with a little chuckle. “That sums it up.” He sounds tired and sated and happy and Mark makes a resolution in his head to get his boyfriend to sound like that as often as possible.

“I love you.” He knows it’s a cliche, but his brain is still drenched in endorphins and they’re both drenched in jizz and everything feels perfect. “You’re amazing and I love you so much. Fuck, Ethan.”

“I love you, too,” Ethan says softly, still petting Mark’s hair. He gives it a gentle tug so Mark looks at him, and his face is so open and genuine it makes Mark well up. “Get up here and kiss me.”

Sniffling a bit, Mark smiles and laughs through his sudden tears. “How could I say no to that?” He pushes himself up onto one elbow and stretches up to meet Ethan in the middle —

— when a bolt of pain shoots through his side. Mark chokes out a stunned gasp as some of the post-coital bliss abruptly fades, and he doubles over. “Oh, ow …”

“What?” Ethan sits up and grabs Mark’s arm, eyes wide and fearful. “Your side?”

Mark nods and flops onto his back, clutching the healed gash and trying to even out his breathing. “Yeah,” he says, voice tight. “Just … cramped up or something. Gotta lay still for a minute.”

“D'you still have some of those pills left?” Ethan gets up from the bed and tugs on his boxer briefs; Mark feels awful for ruining the tranquil moment.

“Yeah, they’re in the en-suite,” he says, gesturing to the master bathroom with his free hand. “In the medicine — _ow_ — cabinet.”

Ethan hurries to the bathroom in just his underwear and Mark can’t help but huff out a laugh at that image. There’s some rattling and the sound of a cabinet door closing, then Ethan calls, “Found them!”

Mark slowly pulls himself into a sitting position against the pillows as Ethan fills a paper cup with water and brings it to him, along with one of the painkillers Mark hasn’t been taking for a week or so. The older man sighs and pops the pill in his mouth, washing it down with the water.

When the hectic energy has settled and Ethan’s re-joined him in the bed again, Mark sighs and throws the empty cup as far as he can. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, guilt creeping up in his chest.

“No, _I’m_ sorry,” Ethan says softly. Mark turns to him in confusion, and Ethan offers a sheepish, tearful little smile. “I knew we were being a little too rough towards the end there, but, uh … it felt too good, so I didn’t tell you to stop like I should’ve.” He curls up against Mark’s good side and kisses his bare shoulder in an apology, hiding his face. “I’m sorry. I said I wouldn’t hurt you and I did anyway.”

“Stop it.” Mark shakes his head and pulls Ethan closer, tilting his chin up so their eyes meet. He refuses to let Ethan blame himself for something so ridiculous. “I could’ve stopped myself, but I didn’t,” he explains, voice low. “It _did_ feel too good. And I knew I’d be sore after, but it was so fucking worth it.”

Ethan sniffles and blinks the sheen of tears away from his gorgeous, oceanic eyes, but he doesn’t pull away from Mark. “I said I wouldn’t hurt you,” he repeats, sounding dangerously close to broken.

“And I said I thought I could handle it,” Mark counters. He runs the pad of his thumb under Ethan’s right eye and brings their foreheads together. “And we _both_ said we wouldn’t fuck the shit out of each other right out the gate. So I think almost every promise we made tonight was sorta overrun by the unbelievable sex.”

Finally, Ethan laughs a little and swipes the back of his hand across his eyes. After a moment, he nuzzles Mark’s nose and says, “It _was_ pretty unbelievable.”

“Understatement of the century.” Mark presses a gentle but fervent kiss to Ethan’s lips and pulls him into a warm hug. The afterglow feeling is slowly coming back, but it could just be the oxy slowly working its way into Mark’s bloodstream.

“I love you,” Ethan whispers. “So much. And as much as I loved fucking the shit out of you, we aren’t gonna do it like that again until you’re _sure_ it won’t hurt you.”

“… That's probably for the best,” Mark concedes.

“And you should probably go to Dr. Hoffman tomorrow just to make sure you didn’t re-injure anything.”

“Why?! What am I gonna tell him? ‘Hey Doc, so my boyfriend and I had mind-blowing sex last night against our better judgment and I wanna make sure I didn’t tear something inside me’?”

“You can just say you were … reaching for something on a high shelf.”

“Yeah, okay, that might — wait. Was that a short joke?”

The conversation dissolves into friendly insults and hearty laughter, as most of their conversations do. Eventually, they get up to clean themselves up and turn the lights off before curling back around each other in the bed. Mark’s head is foggy from the oxy, but his side doesn’t hurt anymore and he’s still positive of one thing: Ethan Nestor-Darling is the best thing to ever happen to him.

“You’re my miracle,” he murmurs as he’s drifting off to sleep with his arms around Ethan and his face buried in soft brown hair.

Ethan hums and kisses Mark’s neck, resting a hand right over his heart. “And you’re mine.”

Neither of them have a single nightmare that night.

————————  



End file.
